Cloverfield: Beth's Story
by saruneko
Summary: What happens to Beth after she leaves Rob's party? Beth's POV.


_**N.B. **I do not own Cloverfield or the characters. But the story is completely my own :) Review please?_

* * *

"Good luck tonight, Travis," Rob said, heading back into the apartment amidst the sounds of music and general merry making by the many people inside

"Good luck tonight, Travis," Rob said, heading back into the apartment amidst the sounds of music and general merry making by the many people inside.

And yes, I did catch his meaning thank you very much.

The last I saw of Rob was the back of his coat and his dark blonde hair before the door completely closed. Whatever. Really. It didn't hurt. Much. I headed straight for the lift and punched the button for it.

"Whoa, Beth, are you okay?" Travis said, putting his hand on my arm.

"I'm fine Travis, really," I replied, not looking at him, but at the flashing neon numbers indicating that the lift was nearly here. Come on, come on. For God's sake. _Ding_. **Finally**. Jesus. I got in quickly, keen to leave and be as far away from Robert Hawkins as possible. Or as close to him as I could be. Or – you know what? Screw it. Travis tried talking to me on the way down in the lift.

"Beth? Are you sure you're okay?" he said, leaning a little close for comfort. Oookay, maybe bringing him to Rob's party wasn't the best idea I've had in a while. I had no idea he'd be this… Clingy. I just met him at a bar the other night with my girlfriends and he'd asked for my number, and I gave it to him, then he called, we met up and yeah. Basically… I don't like him. In that way.

"Yeah I'm fine Travis," I say as we pile out of the elevator and I burst out onto the street, still busy at a quarter to midnight. I wave my hand for a cab and sigh gratefully as one pulls over. I pull open the backseat door and turn around to face Travis, who is hot on my heels.

"Sorry, but I'm heading home. Sorry the party was so boring. Bye!" I say, slamming the cab door shut quickly on his sounds of protest.

"Columbus Circle, Midtown please," I say to the cabbie, who is impervious to Travis' knocking on the window. Thank God. That _so_ did not go the way I wanted it to. I held my head in my hand, closing my eyes on the neon lights of Manhattan. How the hell did this happen? This is not how things were meant to go down. I shouldn't have brought Travis. I **should not have brought Travis.** Elizabeth McIntyre, you are and IDIOT and you **should not have brought along a stupid guy as a date to Rob's leaving party**. I don't think he needed that shoved in his face.

But he didn't come after me.

Well, he was hurt. You brought a date.

Okay, I hate it when I can't think properly. It's just that, a few weeks ago, I was so happy. We were _together_, having fun at Coney Island. He woke me up at 7 AM, with his stupid camera. The same camera that Hud was shoving in my face just now, now I think about it. I groan softly, remembering the testimonial I left on the camera. Then I open my eyes and stare out the window.

We had sex. Okay. And it was meaningless- Okay I shall try to stop kidding myself. It meant a lot, but he didn't call me. At all. And I, I thought that, maybe, I was more than that. He should've called. He should've just bloody –

"Miss?" the cabbie says, looking at me. "We're here. Columbus Circle."

"Oh, I, er, thanks. Here," I stutter, getting my bearings and giving over the fare. "Keep the change." I stagger out of the cab, trying to get out quickly and not flash my undies at the same time. Damn this dress is a bit on the short side. I should've worn stockings. Or something. I close the door of the cab and hurry into the building, holding my coat closed firmly against the slight breeze. It's cold, and I'm in a hurry to get to bed. It's been a long day.

I chuck my bad onto the dresser and struggle out of my dress carefully then hang it up in my closet. I change into a light white tank top and my comfy capris. Then I head over to the window and watch the lights of the cars 39 floors below. The lights of the buildings. Flickering. I lean closer to the window and look out properly. Yes, definitely flickering. And then the building shudders. What the hell was that?

I hold onto the window, not caring about my fingerprints leaving a mark on the glass. The ground shudders violently again, and I feel the building swaying. Is it an earthquake? I see cars below, and people getting out of them and running, running away. I look out, and I see smoke, red lights and –

CRASH.

What's happening?!

Oh my God. Oh my GOD! The building is rocking around. I push myself away from the window and grab the bed, holding on for dear life. The building lurches violently; the WHOLE THING is tipping and we're going to crash into the other block of apartments! It hits. Glass shatters and I fling my arms across my face and then the wall collapses and I see, I see-

The sky. The sky, is right up there and a giant massive block of the wall-

Darkness.

Ouch. Owowowowow. That freaking _hurts_. What _happened?_ Oh my God. I open my eyes, and there's nothing. My dad's apartment is _completely_ wrecked. And, and, oh God.

There is a metal rod sticking out of my shoulder.

And my white tank is not white anymore. I wriggle my fingers. They move fine, but I wince at the pain. I look around, moving as slowly as possibly. The sky is above me, and I feel a cool breeze. I also smell something burning, and choke a little at the still settling dust. I see a light flash suddenly. A small tiny blue light, indicating that I've gotten a missed call or a message…

My handphone.

Its a few inches from my fingers. I strain for it with my pinioned arm desperately. Call Rob call Rob call Rob. I stretch a little more and gasp with the pain. Oh damn this **hurts**. Pain. There's a sudden jolt as the building slides a little more, and the phone slides towards me. Yes! I grab it and press a speed dial. Rob.

Please pick up. Please pick up. I pray as the dial tone rings. I feel a throb in my shoulder. It goes to voicemail. I sob desperately.

"Rob, Rob, I can't… Oh God! I can't move," I stammer into the phone, aware of how loud my voice is in the emptiness. I can hardly breathe. I take a deep gulp of air and continue.

"It fell. My apartment… The whole wall fell on me!" My voice breaks and I start crying as I realise the gravity of the situation. Why the hell would Rob come for me? He made it perfectly clear he hated me just now… But… That day.

"I'm bleeding! I'm bleeding. I can't move. Oh my God! Help me, Rob," I say with my last breath. I slide into unconsciousness.


End file.
